Nothing Left
by RemusAndRomulus
Summary: When Remus turns up on Hermione's doorstep after reaching his breaking point, she offers him comfort in the only way she can think of. Rated M for sex and language.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

**Author's Note: This is a post-war story which does not follow the epilogue in Deathly Hallows. Not for fans of Tonks. Rated M for sex and strong language.**

**Nothing Left**

He was broken, of that much she was sure. They had all seen too much, been through too many hardships in the last few years, but it was the second time that he had seen the aftermath of war, and he had lost everything. He had seen all of his best friends die, James, Lily, Sirius. He had attended Dumbledore's funeral, the one man who had always believed in him. He had seen the worst of himself in his underground work with the werewolves. He watched as families all around him bore the loss of loved ones. And then the one bright spot in his life had flickered out with the end of the war. Tonks had changed when the war was over, becoming distant and cold towards the man she was suppose to marry. He had come to her home very late one evening after a particularly difficult transformation and found her in bed with a man he had never seen before. She had smiled slightly, leaning down to kiss the man she was on top of.

"I've been lonely," she said once the man had fled, seeing the anger awaken in the werewolf. "I was lonely last night. You're never here when I need you."

"I was transforming Tonks, what the hell do you want from me? This is who I am! I thought you knew that, I thought you loved me in spite of it," he yelled.

"I thought I could," she shrugged. "Everyone makes mistakes Remus, and you were mine, I can't deal with the wolf."

He had apperated to Grimmwald Place, not wanting to go back to his empty house. It was three in the morning and pouring ice cold rain. She had answered the door in her pajamas.

"Remus? Its freezing outside, come in" Her voice was husky from sleep. "My god, you're soaked." She had pulled his coat off, and placed a hand on his stubbly cheek, her skin was so warm it felt hot against his icy skin. She took his hand and pulled him to the parlor. Pulling her wand out of her hair she lit a fire in the fire place. Remus sat down heavily in front of the hearth and stared into the flames, feeling numb from more than just the cold outside. He had nothing left, nothing left to live for. The people he loved had lost their lives for a cause, so that they could make the world a better place to live in, but all he had needed was them.

Hermione saw the telltale look in his eyes, helpless, hopeless. She had seen it in Sirius' eyes in her fifth year, trapped in a world of false convictions and desperate to see freedom and sunlight. She had seen it in Harry's eyes in her sixth year after he had lost the one man who could explain the mysteries of love and life to him. She had seen it in Mrs. Weasley's eyes after losing her son. Hermione knelt besides Remus in front of the fire.

"You need to get these clothes off," she whispered, her hands working against the buttons on his white collared shirt. Remus stared into the flames as she continued to strip him, hardly noticing what she was doing. His wet shirt fell to the floor and she tucked herself against his frigid skin, trying to warm him up.

"What are you doing here?" she asked quietly after awhile. Remus started out of his musings and looked down at the young witch in his arms, her cheek resting against his bare chest and along a particularly nasty scar that Tonks had hated.

"Tonks and I...split up," he said roughly. Her honey eyes looked up at him questioningly. "I found her in bed with another man."

A curse fell from her lips, "She never deserved you." Hermione said defiantly, as though challenging him to say differently but he wasn't in the mood for an argument. He hung his head, weary from the fight life had burdened him with. His nose skimmed her chestnut curls, and he heard her whimper. Suddenly she was in his lap, her face buried in his neck.

"Hermione," he warned, trying to remove her.

"No Remus," she whispered in his ear. "I need this, I need you. And you need it too, don't deny it."

"I have nothing to give you, little one" he told her softly. "I have nothing left."

"Then let me give you something," she whispered "Let me show you how I've longed for you." He could hear the desperation in her voice, the tension in her body. He had struggled for so long to remain the picture of propriety, and now the time to fight was past.

Sensing his consent Hermione moved her lips against the scars on his neck, working up to his jaw line. He stood up with her in his arms, his hands around her tiny waist, and spun on the spot. The arrived in his bedroom, and suddenly he was ashamed. The room was sparse and dusty, the first hints of daylight shone through a dirty window revealing a bed with only worn looking sheets to cover them. As she took in their surroundings he watched the light in her eyes turn from pity to hunger. She stripped off the tank top she had been wearing, revealing her bare breasts. He took a step towards her, his eyes drinking her in as she stepped out of her shorts and underwear. She closed the distance between them, her hands loosening his belt. He closed his eyes as her small hand wrapped itself around his hard length. He bore her down to the mattress, weaving one hand in her unruly curls, wrapping the other around her waist.

He was beautiful, she thought. His tormented gray eyes stared into hers as his knee pushed her legs apart and plunged roughly inside of her. Remus heard her moan, she was tight, wet, ready for him. Hermione clutched at his straining arms as he thrust into her. They were covered in the lean muscles of someone who worked hard for a living and crisscrossed in shiny scars and fresh scratches. His light brown hair was flecked with gray and a long strand fell into his eyes as he pressed his forehead to her shoulder, planting a soft kiss to her collar bone. This was what she had been dreaming of since she was old enough to feel desire, and she was determined to show him how she felt.

Remus felt her hips began to work against his, meeting him thrust for thrust, her lust becoming evident as she became impossibly wetter.

"I need more," he heard her beg. "I need it harder." Her voice had taken on a quality he had never heard in one of his lovers. He looked down at her, marveling at the fire he saw in her eyes. He dove into her with complete abandon, something he hadn't been able to do with anyone else. He struggled to maintain his composure as her back arched off of the bed, her head thrown back against the sheets and her lips parting in a delicious moan. He scooped her up in his arms and turned them both around so that she was on top of him. Her curls were in complete disarray, but in a way he had never seen before. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her breath came out in pants. _He _had done that to her. She ran her hands up his muscled chest and into his hair, beginning to rock her hips against his, whimpering at the new sensation.

Remus stared at her body writhing over his, running his hands up her sides and taking a heaving breast in each hand.

"Remus," came her tortured cry as he squeezed hard and pinched her nipples. She bucked harder, nearing her release.

"Fuck, Hermione," he said softly. Suddenly the experience of having his former student riding him in abandon became too much.

"Come on kitten," he growled pulling her down to him. "Come with me." Her eyes closed and her lips fell open as he thrust up into her hard. The sensation of her spasming in orgasm sent him over the edge, and he exploded into her.

"Kitten..." she whispered in his ear. "I like it."


End file.
